Travel, Uncategorized

Dystopia

Imagine a place where unemployment is non-existent. Where there are no homeless. Where public transport is subsidised, and a hot meal can be purchased with an hour’s minimum wage.

Sounds too good to be true? It’s not. This place exists.

And yet…

In the midst of this la-dee-dah, seemingly perfect bubble of little worries and cares, a pervasive force exercises a vice-like grip upon the seemingly unwitting (or perhaps, worse… complicit?) creatures who inhabit this realm. It may have started off as a tongue-in-cheek comment many years ago, when shopping was stated as a national pastime, but this joke has gone two steps too far, and become a reality.

Is shopping your "hobby"? Does this sight push all the pleasure buttons of your synapses?

Is shopping your “hobby”? Does this sight push all the pleasure buttons of your synapses?

Where once we sought the affordable, we now do exhaustive laps around the mall for the “cheap”. Why pay $x when we can get away with $x-1? It becomes an aggressive competition on both sides – price wars between the shops, and endless bargaining or bargain-hunting by the consumers. Is it really because we cannot afford the extra $1? NO. It’s because we get a buzz from knowing we can “get more for less”. Why? So we can get more!

Pausing to consider the working conditions of the sweatshop in which your next bargain came from happens in approximately 0.0000001% of the population.

Pausing to consider the working conditions of the sweatshop in which your next bargain came from happens in approximately 0.0000001% of the population.

We accumulate so much shit in our lives, because it’s there, because we can, because they make it so easy for us to.

We are encouraged to “grab it while stocks last”. To “enjoy the special offer”. To bulk buy. To sign packages. To put it on the card. Otherwise, the moment will pass, and we may regret it later.

After all, with "explosive" lowest prices, how can parting ways with your hard-earned money not be as cathartic as a bout of diarrhoea?

After all, with “explosive” lowest prices, how can parting ways with your hard-earned money not be as cathartic as a bout of diarrhoea?

This is a world where the proposed cure for overconsumption, is even more consumption.

This is a world where the proposed cure for overconsumption, is even more consumption.

We cry foul when the discourse turns to the overseas slave camps that continuously pump out all these items at the hands of “unskilled labourers“. If they’re so freakin’ unskilled, go make your own sodding dress, why don’t you? We say that the market is global, and we are not the sole consumers. As if this fact alone is sufficient to absolve us from taking a long hard look at ourselves for what we really are: gluttons.

We close one eye to domestic social inequality, claiming that we have a stellar system that works (refer to unemployment and homelessness beginning of this rant). We simply choose not to acknowledge that stark injustice still persists. Exploitation of foreign labour is very freakin’ real. The wage gap of those on the bottom rung of our service industry and those whose job description includes socialising with clients in overseas strip clubs and karaoke joints is wider than the buffet spread at some 5* hotel restaurants.

Can we seek shelter, find relief at home from this buzz of commercial activity? NO. Telemarketers ring you on a number even your own best friend does not have. It is enough to make one curl up in a tight ball of misery, and wish to wake up soon.

What is your personal idea of hell?

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Uncategorized

Your Weekend Inspiration

Although one cannot argue with “better late than never”, it is not an excuse to procrastinate unless you’re confident of your longevity.

105-Year-Old Man Receives His High School Diploma.

Seriously, jokes aside, chapeau to this gentleman for an incredible life story and his achievements. It’s humbling to be reminded that we, the lucky ones, have no good excuses to not get out there and chase our dreams. Men like Mr Mohr fought for the liberty we were born into, and we owe it to them to make something of our lives too.

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Uncategorized

GodzillaPin and the Ninja Turtle

Hello! Welcome to the blog of GodzillaPin and the Ninja Turtle.

This is GodzillaPin.

This is GodzillaPin. “Lapin” is French for rabbit.

This is the Ninja Turtle. Less ninja and more turtle.

This is the Ninja Turtle. Less ninja and more turtle.

GodzillaPin and Ninja Turtle are two young adults trying to navigate their way through life, the world, and the rather messy business of living together as a couple with very different backgrounds.

How different, one may ask.
Different like high-rise apartments and single-storey bungalows.
Different like inked-in appointments in a leather-bound organizer and pencil drafts on the back of envelopes.
Different like steam and ice.
Different like the fact that we have agreed to disagree over the origins of the story of the Tortoise and the Hare – whether it is a fable by Jean de la Fontaine (says Lapin) or Aesop (says Turtle).

We are trying to find the Path, if you will. The middle path of compromise? The path to mutual understanding? The path to happiness? Who friggin’ knows. It’s just that after two years of being travel partners, and a year and half of cohabitation, we realize we’ve come quite a way from where we began. We also realize we still have a heck of a long way to go. In the meantime, we’re sharing plenty of laughter, tears of frustration, and many little stories that will one day serve as ammunition against age-related regret.

This blog will (try to) chronicle the adventures of GodzillaPin and Ninja Turtle as it unfolds. Come walk with us, the path is wide enough for all!

Ready. Steady. Go!

Ready. Steady. Go!

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